


How It Started

by ffool



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Backstory, First Meetings, Light Angst, Molestation, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, i guess, only a little bit though, since it starts off here and progresses later on in lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 05:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17217740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffool/pseuds/ffool
Summary: Backstory on how my two oc's Thyme and Jasper first met.Kind of confusing at first since some things aren't explained but it doesn't matter once you get into it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rough first draft. Nothing entirely set in stone yet.  
> Most of the story and plot of the actual whole thing isn't done or even started yet, and this really should be pretty far into the main story for it to make sense, but it needs to be written at some point before I forget about it.

Thyme had found upon first arriving to earth he had he stumbled out into the fight outside a towns local tavern - which more and more people gradually started joining into - and not even a 5 minuets go by from first arriving on earth and he was already suddenly being punched in the face by a rough and dirty, presumably drunken, middle aged man. Thyme was a man of Satan, of course, so it was only logical for him to give the gesture back. Unfortunately though he may have gotten a bit.. too rough, after what only seemed like a few seconds of engaging in the fight he was already at the point where he was almost killing the man (you see, it was normal to be this tough in hell as demons had the souls in between battles to heal and could naturally withstand quite a lot of blows- but Thyme had forgotten that _this_ , in fact, isn't hell and went almost all out on the guy for being easy prey). While he continued to beat the man to the brink of the victims death he himself was getting punched and kicked from all angles, not caring all that much about the the pain until he receives a particularly hard blow to the ribs with a boot, knocking him out of this trance.

The guy was obviously unconscious by the time he realized what he was doing and what he was here for, looking around he saw that nobody had actually noticed him in particular, before he could take his leave, dragging the body with him, he was pulled from the mass of body's abruptly.  
In a state of confusion and frustration in failing to retrieve the first soul, even after this easy convenient situation he'd been placed into, he pushed the unknown person away, causing them to fall to the ground. Once he regained his bearings again he got a good look around where he was (behind some buildings nearby) he turned to viewed the obstacle that interrupted his duty. It was a man.. fairly young looking, tired. Probably in his early 30's, thin and well dressed. Soft face looking up at him- slightly startled and afraid. His skin was a light shade of brown and soft white curls of hair fell in front of one of his eyes. He thought about taking this moment to take his souls for the rude intersection in his plan but thought it'd just be easier to just grab the unconscious victim from the brawl. He turned to leave but came to a stop when he heard the younger mans voice.

  
"W-wait!" He man jumped to his feet and walked over slightly, not too close though, about a arms distance away.

"What."

"You're seriously not going back to the fight, are you?" He questions

"Why does it matter to you?" He glares at the younger man, which makes him slightly take a step back.

"You- you're pretty injured, I saw you getting pretty beat up back there.. and you look as if you took a pretty bad kick to the chest, enough to break a rib. And you're bleeding quite a lot.. and your hand..." the smaller man explains.

Thyme looks down at his hands. Yep, a few broken fingers.. from when he was beating that guys face in. Nothing he couldn't fix own though. (although it may take a while since Satan gave strict instructions that he was not to use the souls he collects for personal use, they needed as many and they could get their hands on and couldn't risk being short of a few because of Thymes recklessness.)

"I can handle it on my own... And why should you care anyway? You haven't pulled anyone else out from the fight, have you?" he accuses "Why am i an exception?"

"Everyone that got involved were some drunk half headed fool who cant think for themselves and ended up joining in. You though, are clearly not drunk.. or even a little tipsy." The man continues. "...plus.. you kind of really stand out among all the rags." He gestures to his clothes.

Thyme did notice how he was probably the only one there that was well presented. Others having torn layered clothes or mediocre clothing, not close to the high end things that Thyme was currently wearing. And this man in front of him wasn't too badly dressed himself. Not as well as he was but certainly better than the others he had seen today.

"Your point?" Thyme was getting impatient and he could hear the roar of the crowds slowly starting to disperse and dim.

"Listen, I'm flattered that you think i need your help, but please do me a favor, and piss off. I don't need your help i can handle this stuff on my own."

The smaller man was silent, and Thyme took that silence as a chance to leave and walked away without another thought.

  
He was annoyed to find that the chaos had ended and that everybody went back to their daily lives as if nothing happened, and no bodies were left anywhere in sight. How convenient, _honestly_! Now he had to actually start planning a way to retrieve the souls. He figured the tavern would be a good place to start to get information about the town from. After a drink, of course.

He walked inside the building where the previous fight had just took place, and immediately started receiving a few odd glances from the men and women around. Of course that was expected, he though. The man that took him away did mention how he stuck out. Nonetheless he comes in and sits down at the bar counter and orders a drink; downing it in one go.

  
"Yur not frum raund 'ere, are ya?" A raspy voice from next to him interrupts.

Thyme raises an eyebrow at the old man. Hes terribly worn down and dirty, he looks homeless with that amount of and grime covering every inch of his body and ragged clothes.

"Nobody raund ere's got the cash for them threads, little boy!"

He was take back at being accused of being a 'little boy', he was definitely a few hundred years older than this old fool in this world, although it may not look like it.

"Well you have a good eye, sir. no, I am not from here. And I don't plan staying that long either." thyme replied in the most polite manner he could muster considering how the old man was talking to him.

"Weeeeellll-huehehehe- I don't tink yew should be leavin so soon's feller! Stay a while! Us guysss always love they new company~"

There were suddenly heavy footsteps from behind him, and four other equally big, rough looking men had decided to make themselves apparent.

"Listen I don't mean to kill whatever you have planned here, but I have a job to do. So, gentlemen, if you'd be so kind as to excuse m-"

While Thyme was halfway out his seat he was suddenly pushed back down to the chair, and the first old man wrapped his wrinkled, thick, dirty fingers around his arm tightly to keep him in place.

"Eyyy~ wats the hurry! Come'n have a few mur drinks, _pretty boy_!"

The old mans free hand slowly started to drop to his thigh, rubbing it slowly.

"What do you think your _d-_!" One of the much bigger men had placed a hand over his mouth, making him inaudible. It was honestly ridiculous how nobody around was even bothering to give a second glance at what was happening.   
  
" _Shhh sh sh sh_." The old man silenced. "Yer in preddy bad conditions, huh? Were ya caught up in that there fight befur boy? Did the big burly men hurt ya?" The creep put on a babyish voice smiled slyly.

"I c'n make it bedda darlin~" The weirdo then slowly brings up the hand from his thigh to his crotch.

Thyme's eyes become wide at the sensation and kicks the bastard in the stomach with a force so strong it kicks down the stools both of them were sitting on and the others around them fall like dominoes.

"mMOTHRFAKER- ugh-- GED'IM YEW GOONS!" The first old man says to the other 4, who upon being told, lunge for Thyme.

  
He manages to dodge 3 of them, but one grabs him from behind, twists him around, and knees him in the stomach. A pain starts to blossom below his ribs and he curls into himself in the air before being thrown out the taverns doors with the 4 men shortly following after.  
He stumbles over himself trying to stand again, he shouldn't have been experiencing this amount of pain from just humans blows.. maybe Satan took away most of his powers to make sure he doesn't get in trouble while hes up here. Either way, his torso was aching with any kind of slight movement- probably has another broken rib he thinks to himself. If not two.

One of the 4 men reach Thyme and pick him up by the throat and slam him back onto the ground again, making thyme cough up a bit of blood. Yep. Definitely have a broken rib. Just as the same man goes to kneel over Thyme's broken body about to beat him, a figure runs by- too fast to notice who it actually was, but they were wearing a cloak, and they dropped a strange ball behind them. Suddenly a explosion of thick pink smoke erupts in the air and startles all of the men and onlookers nearby. Before Thyme had a chance to process what's going on he was suddenly being dragged away through the smoke.

As he's being dragged he floats a bit in and out of consciousness and just as they exit the smoke, he sees a tuft of white, curly hair peaking slightly from under the cloaks hood before he finally falls unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to heal.

When he next woke up it was dark, and he was surrounded by the sounds of rustling trees and a slight breeze lightly pushing against a thick fabric surrounding him, and... glasses knocking each other lightly? His body mostly covered in bandages and plasters, around his hands and chest. He tried to sit up slowly, his body heavy and aching. 

 

"Oh, woah hey! Slow down there!" A familiar voice calls from across the tent "I wouldn't do that if i were you, you shouldn't really be moving at all actua-"

Thyme had ignored him and tried to stand, consequentially receiving a long and sharp pain throughout his entire torso.

"AGH WHAT THE FUCK!" He sits back down and leans over himself.

"Told you." The voice comes closer.

Thyme notices that it is in fact the same person that tried to take him away from the fight from when he first arrived to- oh yeah. Earth.. which reminds him of the job.  
The stranger comes over to the side of his bed and hands him a vile containing a bright yellow glowing liquid.

"Here, drink." He insisted.

Thyme stared at the liquid shaking around in the glass.

"... I'm not drinking piss" he explains with a straight face, with a slight hint of disgust.

A snort comes from the other man and moves the vile closer. "It's not piss, it's meant to help you heal."

Thyme examines the elixir again. Ok, maybe it wasn't piss. He still didn't want to drink it though- what if it were a trap? What if it stopped him from preforming his duty? What if it put him into more pain? Or even worse, what if this was all just to kill him?

He's clearly been staring at it for too long and the younger man takes it away.

"Fine then, guess you'll just have to stay here for the next month to recover. Fine by me" He goes to put the glass away.

"Wait-" He stops the other as hes just about to put it away. "I'll-- just give it to me." he really couldn't stay here that long or Satan would surely- he didn't even want to think about what would happen to him, it made him that sick.

The other smiles and hands over the tube. As he takes it he stares at it for a few seconds before smelling it a little.

It's fine. It'll be fine. Just drink it and its over with. Then you can take his soul after your healed and carry on with your job. Easy. So. Just. Drink it.

He squints his eyes and takes it like a shot. Gone in a second.

"Good, well done." The white haired man smiles and takes the vile back.

"This isn't a trap is it?" Thyme asks, wearily.

"What?" the other turns around to face him, eyebrow raised.

"You haven't taken me here to kill me have you?"

The younger man laughs slightly "If I did plan on killing you then I wouldn't have saved you twice, take you back to my camp, bandage you up, and heal your wounds would I?"

No i guess not, he thinks to himself.

"Then- why did you help me. I told you once I'm fine on my own" He retorts.

"You say that and then you got beat by 4 blockheads after getting touched up by a pervy old git" He states bluntly.

Is that really what happened?  
He cant remember much of what happened before he had fell asleep. he just remembers going into the tavern and asking for a shot of the strongest thing they had. Surely human alcohol wasn't worse than what they have back in hell.. right? It's probably because Satan's taken away most of his demon attributes slowly while he was here, like he recalls thinking earlier on in the day.

Apparently the smaller man could see confusion on his face and took it as a 'he clearly cant remember' and decided to turn the conversation around.

"Your uh- injury's, by the way. You had 3 broken fingers, 3 broken ribs and 1 bad fracture, and a minor concussion. Oh and a few cuts and bruises here and there." He explains "But you clearly can see I've tended to them as best i could."

Theres a awkward moment of silence as thyme stares at his hand. The only noise around them was the soft sounds of nature.

 

"Thank you." Thyme whispers, slightly embarrassed.

The other looks up from the ground which had seemed pretty interesting for what felt like an agonizing hour. ".. huh?"

He rarely ever says this, and dreads having to say it again. It makes him feel small and pitiful, but right now it's just manners.

"...I said thank you." He repeats, a bit more sternly this time. He really did mean it. These acts were unthinkable in hell. An act of kindness between demons was practically treason towards Satan himself! And since nobody has ever done a stunt like that in the history of hell this was truly new to him, but he appreciated it.

The younger stares at him for a moment, a light blush growing across his face.

"yeah, no problem really." He replies.

They stay in silence for a bit longer until the smaller man perks up.

"I never got your name by the way, guess we were too busy to notice!" The younger gentleman laughs. "I'm.. Jasper. Jasper Flynn" He smiles warmly towards Thyme, and waits for a response.

"Uh. Thyme." He reply's.

Jasper gives a confused look toward the other.

"Really? Spelt T-I-M-E? Man no offence but what were your parents thinking?" Jasper snorts, but right after realizing what he said worry spreads across his face. "I- I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I didn't mean it-" He looks down into his lap, embarrassed with red growing across his face.

"No, no. It's fine. I get that a lot. But no it's spelt T-H-Y-M-E." Thyme honestly expected that answer so it didn't bother him actually.

"Oh! Like the spice!" He looks back up at him glad he didn't upset the other.

"Exactly."

"And last name?" Jasper questions.

"Huh?"

"Last name. You haven't suddenly forgotten your last name have you?" Jasper chuckles.

"Uh...I-" Thyme's was suddenly stopped mid-sentence from a extremely sharp pain deep within his chest and lets out a small cry, soon followed by Jasper coming up to help. He's glad for having broken ribs now as its just saved him from answering the question with no real answer. He'll have to think of something quick, quick.

"Right uh.. it's- uhm.." He stumbles on his words.

"Y'know what it's fine. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Jasper looks away slightly, but still has a soft smile on his lips. "Welp, I think we should get some rest. It'll help the potion set in." He says as he stands from where he's sitting and stretches his back, hearing a slight pop from being slightly slumped over for a little too long.

"Yeah.. alright." Thyme agrees. He hadn't actually noticed how tired he was until then, returning a yawn himself but his breath hitches after his chest starts hurting again.

The light haired man walks over and helps Thyme down back onto his bed before going to exit the tent.

"I'll be in the tent over there if you need me" Nodding his head in the direction of another tent not to far away. Thyme acknowledged what he said with a short hum. Jasper smiled to the other then closed the flaps to the tent and all that could be heard was the small crunch of leaves and sway of grass as he left.

Thyme lay there in the tent, dimly lit up by the various potions and concoctions from behind him. He then remembered the potion he had drank, it was meant to heal him right? He went to move what fingers were broken and noticed that they slightly started to come back to life since when he first woke up, and it was a lot less painful now.  
He started to rethink about taking this mans soul, and with that he slowly drifted back to sleep.


End file.
